


From Peeta, with Love

by PatriziaNordsee



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: A Candle for the Caribbean, ACFTC, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 20:19:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatriziaNordsee/pseuds/PatriziaNordsee
Summary: This story is my contribution to to tumblr @loveinpanem ‘s charityA Candle for the Carribean, in favor of the victims of Hurricane Maria.There is a companion story - The first Christmas – A ‘From Peeta with love’ - outtake.





	From Peeta, with Love

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, my dearest friend @titaniasfics for your support, kind words and beta reading. Without her this story wouldn’t exist. She is a wonderful woman and the best friend ever. Without you @titaniasfics I wouldn't have been brave enough to write this story.
> 
> Thank you @akai-echo for your aesthetics. You are such an amazing artist. I am so happy that these two wonderful women helped me.
> 
> If you find mistakes – they are all mine.

 ~~~

One

July 2017 - Peeta / Lufthansa Flight 707 to Puerto Rico

 

10 hours is a long time. How will I spend 10 hours sitting in the economy class of a plane with nothing to do but wait? Nothing to do with my hands and nothing to think about but the reason why I left Germany and am now on a plane to Puerto Rico. Left the country I called home for such a long time. Now flying into the Caribbean.

 

10 hours is all it will take to bring me from Frankfurt in Germany to Juan Santamaría International Airport. 10 hours to transfer my soul from Germany to Puerto Rico.

 

But I don't feel as disturbed as the man in the Native American story who wanted to wait at the roadside till his soul reached him, because traveling faster than he could walk might be too fast for his soul to follow. My soul had already found its place in Puerto Rico. It was up to me to follow.

~~~

I open my backpack to pull out my smartphone and my wallet.

 

Inside the wallet are the two pictures which have helped me through the last couple of months. The picture of my father sitting on his well-worn leather chair in his study, drinking rum and listening to Jíbaro music. He was wearing a fedora on his head. He had always been a secret Indiana Jones fan.

 

The other picture is that of a slight woman, caramel skin and eyes the color of quicksilver. A dark braid rested on her left shoulder all the way down to her waist – my Katniss. In this picture, she wears jeans shorts, a t-shirt, and hiking boots. She is obviously doing some construction work because in the background, I can see a building site. She laughs and waves her baseball cap while her face is wet with perspiration. Beside her, with a slender arm wrapped around her left leg, is a little girl. Wearing almost the same clothes. I know that she is seven years old in the picture, and missing her front teeth. The smile is brilliant like the sun and Little Rue too swings her baseball cap like there is no tomorrow. After I carefully put the pictures back behind the plastic in my wallet, I spend the rest of the time looking at all the pictures I have on my smartphone.

 

Pictures of the same woman, the same child. But of other people too. People I met via Skype. People I am writing emails to. People who became my closest friends – even when we never met in person before.

 

And as I watch the island through the little rounded window of our plane while we approach Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport, I know immediately that nearly 5812 miles was enough. 5812 miles between Puerto Rico and Germany where the story began.

 

~*~*

 

Two

Fall 2016 - Peeta, Dreußleringen - Germany

The November weather outside mirrors the feelings I have. Dark, rainy, stormy, hopeless.

 

I real don't know what to do with myself.

 

My father is dead.

 

I feel numb and hopeless.

 

He passed away last evening.

 

I forlornly open the bottle of ‘DON Q Signature Release Single Barrel Rum 2005’, my father's favorite. Haymitch sent it to his last birthday.

 

I fill my glass exactly how he taught me by holding two fingers on the outside and pour slowly.

 

“This is not just rum.“ he said. “This is ambrosia.“ 

I start the record he must have been listening to because I found it in the record player.

I want to remember him the way he has been when I was here on my monthly visit. Full of life.

 

In my mind, I can see him. Sitting in his favorite armchair, his right ankle on top of his left knee, the foot bobbed to the rhythm of the music.

 

So I salute to him. 'Adiós papa! Siempre estará en mi corazón.' 

 

I can barely breath and don't want to hold back my tears. He has been a very good father.

The best one. I open his laptop. There are some people I have to write to. Haymitch needs to know that my dad has passed away. He will pass the message to the other friends.

 

~*~*

 

pmellark@gmx.de to mailto:Info@panem.org

 

Dear Haymitch,

 

it's me, Peeta. I really don’t know how to tell you this- but my my dad passed away. It has happened yesterday in the evening when he was alone in his study. And now I am sitting here in his study too. Drinking a glass of rum listening to his records and remembering him - alone.

 

He is with friends - like yesterday when he had the final heart attack.

 

I called last weekend and he assured me that he felt good. You know my dad. A lion heart - he was not. And he didn’t take care of his heart. And this had been the second time he had an attack.

 

And now I'm all alone.

 

Shit, listen to me. That must be the rum. I am not used to it. But I don’t regret shedding tears for a great father. He always told me to be proud of my feelings. About my heart. And now his heart has stopped.

 

Haymitch - if there is someone who can understand how I feel, it is you.

 

Please tell me what to do.

 

Peeta

 

~*~*

 

Fall 2016 - Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

It isn't just pure luck that I am at the computer in our office when the mail comes in. It is my job to respond to every email we get. And right, now I am waiting for an email from one of our new volunteers. Usually they are students, but this one is from an engineer who wants to work with us. Interesting. So when I hear the significant sound of our computer – a four tone note from a movie I love – I enlarge the little window and see that it is from Haymitch's best friend. That is at least that what I am thinking until I read the text. It isn't from Gustav Mellark, it is from his son Peeta. The more I read, the more I feel every word in my heart and type an answer immediately.

 

~*~*

 

Info@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx.de

 

Hello Peeta,

 

You don’t know me. But I am Katniss, Haymitch’s niece. The one who moved with him from USA. Haymitch is abroad right now. I opened your mail and read it because that is part of my job. To correspond with the people who send us mail, you know.

 

Peeta, I am so sorry. About your dad. Haymitch always spoke so proudly about their friendship. And he told me about you too. About the plans you both had to visit us and maybe even stay for longer than a couple of month.

 

I saw pictures of and your father. Did you know that your father sent photos regularly? He was so proud of you and he loved you so much.

 

Peeta, please don’t feel alone. You can write me anytime you want. I am here for you.

I will answer. I promise.

 

I have lost loved ones too. I can relate to your lost. And I have been so lucky to have people who cared for me.

As soon as I can reach Haymitch on his cellphone I tell him. He will contact you as soon as possible too. I am certain.

 

So if you feel up to it, send me a mail.

 

Yours friend, Katniss

 

~*~*

 

Fall 2016 - Peeta, Dreußleringen - Germany

 

I finish my glass of rum and turn off the record player. I have to remember to take the records with me when I leave to Frankfurt.

 

When I try to shut of the laptop I see that I received an answer and sit down again to read it.

 

It is not from Haymitch but from his niece. Katniss – what a beautiful name. I will never forget it. The message she sent – it goes straight to my heart. So I answer her too before I go to bed.

 

pmellark@gmx.de to mailto:Info@panem.org

 

Dear Katniss,

 

Thank you so much for your kind words. I must apologize. I wrote that email while I was drinking. I don’t drink, usually.

 

Your note means so much. Obviously it makes me more emotional than usually. But it has been hard. My dad has been so important to me.

 

So thank you. And I am sorry for your loss, too. Was it been recently? Forget it, that was nosy.

 

But you sounded like you know how I felt. I know that my dad and Haymitch were best friends. So he will want to know what will happen next.

 

Tell Haymitch, that my dad has left a letter and a last will with his notary. He told me that he wanted to be cremated and that his ashes should be put into the earth of a “Friedwald”. Haymitch knows what my dad wanted. He took care that he receive the funeral he wanted, not that pompous event his wife would prefer. He will be lying under a young oak tree.

 

About your work in Puerto Rico. I know that my dad wanted to donate to P.A.N.E.M.

I write it to you and Haymitch as soon as possible.

 

And I would love to know more about your work.

 

Thank you for your answer – Peeta

 

~*~*

 

Three

 

December 2016 - Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

 

I use the coincidence that Haymitch is in San Juan this weekend to visit an old friend. I make myself a large cup of cafè-con-leche, take the tortitas de calabaza Sae made earlier and make myself at home in our office. I haven't heard from Peeta since last weekend. This is unusual because he often writes a few sentences before his shift in the hospital begins. Good that I have enough time to write to him. Let him see that he is not forgotten. It must be hard for him this time of the year. The first Christmas without his father.

 

~*~*

 

Info@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx.de

 

Dear Peeta,

 

How are you. I haven't heard from you for the last week and have to admit. I am missing your emails. I miss you.

 

Right now, it is really silent here. Haymitch is in San Juan visiting an old friend – I suppose that his term for spending time with a female friend. The students are either in town to buy Christmas presents or they have already flown back home to be with their relatives.

 

This is the time of year I fear the most. It makes me remember all the loved ones I miss. Not only my parents but Effie too. Prim and Gale will come over on Christmas day and stay until New Year’s. Too bad you can't come, too. But I can understand if you can't. I know you told me that you’re working in the emergency room till January, but maybe you can find a way to make peace with your mother.

 

Peeta, family is important. I’m still thinking that I didn’t tell my parents or Effie enough how much I loved them. And I did. I loved them so much.

 

So if you feel up to it, write to me. Or maybe someday we could Skype. We now have fast internet. So it wouldn't look like slow motion pictures.

 

Yours, Katniss

 

~*~*

 

December 2016- Peeta, Frankfurt - Germany

This December is hard to bear. Every shop is festively decorated . Even in the hospital where I’m working, the nurses used every opportunity to hang colorful baubles and tinsel. I feel the hole in my heart that opened when my father died and I don't know how to mend it. When I open my laptop and see that I’ve got an email from Katniss and read that Katniss misses me, I feel myself smile for the first time this week. But it fades away when I read her encouragement to make peace with my mother. Katniss has no idea. How can she? My father and I always kept it a secret how much my mother destroyed our relationship with her behavior. Destroyed me. I ask myself if I am ready to tell her my story but I feel it is too early. First we need to build a stronger friendship. One thing I learned something during the years I spent in a boarding school far from home is how to build a friendship.

 

So I make myself comfortable, pour another cup of tea without sugar. Open another packet of Elisen-Oblaten-Lebkuchen and start my email.

 

~*~*

 

pmellark@gmx.de to mailto:Info@panem.org

 

Dear Katniss,

 

I don't know how you knew I needed an email from you – needed it badly.

How are you? I’m okay but can't wait for this year to be over, for spring comes and maybe next summer, fly to Puerto Rico. You should tell me about your work. I really want to know. So to butter you up, I decided to write a little bit about my work here.

 

To understand what kind of patients we treat, you must know:

The weather here in Frankfurt is bad. The snow melts as soon as it reaches the ground and goes from white to dirty slush. Those of us in Frankfurt who didn't have a cold until now get sick after they spend some time with people who have runny noses.

In the emergency room we have many patients with broken legs, arms or worse. And we have patients who have pneumonia too. And every now and then they have both.

 

Today, we admitted an old woman with pneumonia who also had a fracture of femur. She fell in her kitchen while brewing herself a cup of tea. She is 90, and I don't know if she can stay home again. She is alone and it will take months for her to heal.

 

Yesterday we had a surprise visit from one of our colleagues who became a mother 8 weeks before. She baked us Christmas cookies and showed us pictures of her little girl. So cute.

 

You offered to Skype, if I read your email correctly. I’m in. Tell me when and I’ll put on my best shirt, comb my hair and let you finally see who is on the other side of the net.

 

I hope you’re not disappointed.

Give Haymitch my best.

Yours, Peeta

 

~*~*

 

Four

February 2017 - Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

How can I show him that he can trust me? I would love to talk with him about his family. My parents have been so important to me. And I talk to Prim almost weekly. But Peeta never talks about his mother. Maybe their relationship is such a sore spot that he is afraid to trust me with with stories about his childhood. I mean, really trust to tell me me why he always changes the topic when we speak via Skype. And he is really good at it. I know from behavioral science that to be really successful, you need practice. Children learn that 'Practice makes perfect'. How often had he to change the topic nonchalantly when people ask about his mother? Who she is? What she does for a living? If they have a close relationship? Why she never visited her son? Haymitch always says that I have to wait, but Rue’s mother told me if I wanted to know something about the people I meet, I have to share something first. So today, I’m going to write Peeta about me. Maybe then, he will open up some more. I feel like I want to get to know him a lot better. That he may become one of those persons you want to stay for the long run.

He is hot like hell. I have to admit, the first time I saw him, with his blond curls that are long enough to give him a rakish charm and blue eyes that look so much like Prim's, and my mother's, that I felt a spark in me that I thought was dead. Or at least fast asleep. Not to mention his broad shoulders. When he smiles, it’s crooked and he has a dimple. The first time we Skyped, he had sat there and looked so boyish. So excited. So real. So down to earth. I wanted to spend time with him. I wanted him to open up to me because he feels he can. So I’ve decided I have to open myself first.

 

~*~*

 

Info@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx.de

 

Dear Peeta,

 

I hope you feel better now that your cold is gone. Did Effie's recipe of ginger tea with lemon work its wonder? I hope so. That reminds me, I always wanted to tell you about. Effie, who has been my anchor when I needed one most - when Prim and I became orphans. But maybe I should start with the beginning. Effie always told me that when I came home from school, angry about one kid or another who made fun of me. She always said: 'Start with the beginning, lovely. I have all the time in this world to listen to you.'

 

The beginning would be when I first heard about Haymitch and his project P.A.N.E.M. Because Haymitch and Effie have been a long-distance-couple for almost 20 years.

 

I remember the day I had seen a very specific letterhead for the first time.

 

My father showed it to me.. “Look, Katniss, this is from your Uncle Haymitch.” It was the image of an exotic-looking landscape with the symbol of circle of gold with a small bird in flight. Beneath it were the words The P.A.N.E.M. Project, written in cursive, gold letters.

 

He was so proud of the project his brother Haymitch had founded. He told me something about helping people, taking care of nature and being proud of my ancestors. I didn't understand it at that time. Heavens, I was eleven years old. Your mind is always somewhere else. Certainly not on human welfare or conservation. I thought more about getting along with the the girls in my class, and not getting teased nonstop.

 

When I was a child, my parents made it possible for both, my sister Prim to get a good education. Our parents both worked full time and saved money whenever possible because they had wanted to reach this goal. And they did.

Too bad that both my parents didn't live long enough to see our graduations. We hadn’t been lucky enough to see our parents waving and smiling from their seats while each of us moved the tassel of the graduation cap from right to left.

 

Our parents died in a car accident when I was fourteen and Prim was only ten years old. At that time, Haymitch got custody, but with him spending a lot of time abroad, it made it close to impossible to care properly for us. So he sent the both of us from our home in Seam in District 12 to his friend, Effie in Capitol-City to live. So we could have a place that we could call home again and finish our education. It had been a good choice.

 

Effie behaved more like a good friend to me and didn't try to replace my mother. To Prim, she was the surrogate mother she needed. She gave us both a home and so much more.

She spent a lot of energy teaching us about Puerto Rico. She told us about our parents and grandparents and their respective countries My mother’s family came from Ireland and my father’s came from Puerto Rico.

 

She cooked Colcannon like our mother used to. And learned to make Asopao like she had lived all her life in Puerto Rico. But she never had. Effie was afraid to get on a plane and preferred the railroads or traveling by car. She had never traveled overseas. And so we didn't either. At least four times a year,Haymitch came to lived with us for at least a week. Always when we had a special event. Our birthdays, a party at school, a archery competition in my case or in soccer in Prim's case. They never missed holidays like Easter or the 4th of July. We had more holidays than other children. We had Día de la Abolición de la Esclavitud and we had St. Patrick's Day too. They really were the best surrogate parents a child could wish for. And we knew it.

 

After losing our parents, we didn't want to spend too much time away from Effie. When Effie passed away spring 2015, it was as if my mother had died a second time. She had been able to work her way into my heart very deeply. When she died, I cried for weeks. It has been good that I had Prim at that time and we could share our grief. Prim, had, under Effie's tutelage, grown up into a independent, wonderful woman. She became a pediatrician, as she had always loved children and made a good income with babysitting during her time in high school and college. During this time, I had proudly brought a Master's degree in biology home to Effie and Prim. Prim actually worked in a children’s medical center and was happily married to Gale, my best friend and the boy she fell in love with when she was only 10 . It took them both more than 10 years of growing up to become a couple. They in a suburb of Capitol-City and are happy together.

 

And I? I worked for the government since graduation and had been dating and for some time living with Cato, a young successful lawyer who worked for the government too.

But I wasn’t happy with my life anymore. Effie's passing made me think about my life choices again and again. She had never been really happy with my choice of an employer and with my relationship with Cato.

 

“Lovely,” Effie often said to me, “you could do so much better. What do you really want to do? Who you want to be? 

 

I began to notice that this life was not real. I felt unreal. In my elaborate life, in my expensive clothes, in my one-sided relationship with Cato, I felt like a foreigner. I earned a lot of money. But it was more than I needed. The longer I am here the more I understand how wrong my way of life was. The way I consumed, the way I dressed. The people I spent my time with. The employer I worked for. So I left all the clothes in Cato's apartment when I left him and the circle of people we spent time with. I quit my job and bought a one-way-ticket to Puerto Rico. So you see, a lot of things lead me to leave the country I had called home for such a long time.

 

In Puerto Rico, I finally felt at home. My paternal ancestors lived here. It was an island I had never visited before but only knew about from the amazing stories my father and later Effie had told us stories about the ecologic systems, about El Yunque National Forest and about the Guánica Biosphere Reserve. But also she told us about the history of the indigenous population. About our ancestors who lived in Jayuya and were famous carvers. About the Taínos Indians and how they celebrated every November with parades, special food, costumes, games and traditional music.

 

And I found a home here. I love the way we work. I love the things we feel are important. The most important thing for everyone is to have something to eat.

This and a place to live, too. All the other things like intact nature, education, good medicine and that all nations work together are well and good but without bread and a roof over your head, it is less than enough - it is a sham.

 

We see it like this. In every large nation are people who drop through the social system. Because they get ill, lose their jobs or are out of luck. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t be helped in achieving a better live for their families.

And I want to support them.

 

Truly yours, Katniss

 

~*~*

 

February 2017- Peeta, Frankfurt - Germany

Yesterday, I got Katniss email. I read it a few of time since then. I always knew that she was a very special, brave woman, but I’ve never felt so proud of someone before. She left her job, family and friends to move to an island. And now I am sitting here and ask myself if I feel safe enough in our relationship to tell her more about me. After all I have been abused by someone who should have been my protector, my mother. So I start with something easier to tell her. I will show her that I am on my way to open up. But I am not there finally.

 

~*~*

 

pmellark@gmx.de to mailto:Info@panem.org

 

Dear Katniss,

 

Thank you so much for the email you wrote me. I can't tell you how much it meant to me for you to share such memories. I would love to open up to you to. I have to do it step by step. Memories that I have stored away for so long need time to come out without me being afraid of having said too much.

I never told you how I learned to bake. You know that I can? Bake real good, I mean.

I can bake cookies, shortbread, cakes, cupcakes, bread, pastries of all sorts and of course the dish you love most – Pizza – too.

 

When I was brought to the boarding school in the little town 'Urft' my father acted on the recommendation of a woman he once cured from chronic gastritis. After she left her husband, like my father suggested, she became the cook at this boarding school. She wrote about how good her life was now and how wonderful the people she worked with. So my father call Hazelle and I found myself in a new school. I was twelve and spent a lot of my spare time on weekends in Hazelle's kitchen. She taught me everything.

 

When I started school I was skinny and rather small.

 

It was Hazelle's achievement that I started eating again.

 

She encouraged me to take Judo to be able to defend myself. She was the first woman who was kind to me. When I graduated a little bit earlier than usual at seventeen, Hazelle was at my father’s side in the assembly hall of the school to see me get my diploma.

 

She died when I was nineteen. Went to sleep in the evening and never woke up again.

My father told me she had a smile on her face when she was found in the morning.

 

When I visit you in Puerto Rico I will bake you a couple of Hazelle's specials.

You told me you love pizza because of the cheese/bread combination. I will make you Hazelle's cheese buns and you will love them. She created them especially to make me eat again when I was a small, frightened child.

 

I can't wait to hear your moan of approval.

 

Truly yours Peeta

 

~*~*

 

Five

March 2017- Katniss / Peeta's Skype ‘Lets watch Indie’

 

Katniss: Hi Peeta. Ready to start with 'Movie time'?

 

Peeta: Like I would miss an opportunity to watch a movie with you! Are you ready or do I to wait for you to go to the kitchen again because you forgot the snacks? Like last weekend.

 

Katniss: I am all set. Pizza, iced tea and peanuts. CD in the player. I’m just only wait for you to give the signal.

 

Peeta: DONG, DONG, DONG - Let’s watch Indie!

 

Katniss: Ah, I can't believe it. We finally get the chance to watch 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' together.

 

Peeta: I like your red and white blouse, by the way.

 

Katniss: And I love your father’s fedora.

 

Peeta: Oh, oh, Katniss here comes the scene with the snakes.

 

Katniss: Peeta, it’s not me who is afraid of snakes. It’s you honey. But they are not real.

 

Peeta: Not real?

 

Katniss: Nope. Just legless lizards. Believe me.

 

Peeta: I'll take your word for it. You are the one who has a degree in biology. If you say they are lizards, then they are lizards.

 

Katniss: They are.

 

Peeta: But I am still afraid of snakes.

 

Katniss: Don't worry. I am with you.

Peeta: That’s reassuring, lovely. You’re my hero.

 

Katniss: Did you see that? How can Indi swim with a U-boat?

 

Peeta: He can't. And why didn't the Germans descend? Makes no sense. If this is so top secret, why don't they dive?

 

Katniss: Hmm too many questions here. But I love the movie nonetheless.

 

Peeta: Me too. But especially when I can watch it with you.

 

~*~*

 

Six

March 2017 - Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

 

Info@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx.de

 

Dearest Peeta,

 

The crew is at the party in Ponce this evening, so we’ll have a whole evening to Skype. What are you thinking? Skype with a side order of movie time together. Maybe even some homemade pizza in your case and a frozen one in mine? I can't wait for later.

Yours Katniss

 

~*~*

 

March 2017- Peeta, Frankfurt - Germany

 

pmellark@gmx.de to mailto:Info@panem.org

 

Lovely Katniss,

 

You've got yourself a date. I would love to spent my movie time with you. What shall we watch?

Yours, Peeta

 

~*~*

 

March 2017 - Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

Info@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx.de

 

Dearest, Dearest Peeta,

 

I am sooooo sorry I have to cancel our Skype time. The second time in a row when I count the one time I was ill and threw up all day. I feel so bad, not because I ate roasted pork , like last time, but because Annie asked me to go with her to the Carnival in Ponce. And I couldn't say no to her. She hasn't been there before and she didn’t want to go with either Marvel (the dumb-ass) or Finnick (the poser). Because they both behave like brats. Am I forgiven? Can we make a new plan?

 

Really yours, Katniss

 

~*~*

 

March 2017- Peeta, Frankfurt - Germany

 

pmellark@gmx.de to mailto:Info@panem.org

 

Lovely Katniss,

 

Of course. What do you suggest? I am open to everything you want. I have a free weekend and nothing to do.

 

Yours, Peeta

 

~*~*

 

March 2017 - Haymitch, Ponce – Puerto Rico

Info@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx.de

 

Dearest, dearest Peeta,

It’s me Haymitch!!!!!. Katniss is at the carnival. Do you want to Skype with me instead? I have a lovely pink negligee I would be willing to wear on this special occasion. And we could watch every movie you want. How about Pretty in Pink? If you can wait for an hour I would be willing to wax my legs so that they are more appealing. Or do you want me to curl my hair? Put a little bit of lipstick on?

 

Listen, boy. Really, I am happy that you both have found each other.

 

And I can't wait for you to come to Ponce. But in the meantime. Please, please, use Katniss own email address for your love letters, so I don't have to read stuff that is not for my eyes.

 

Or maybe I will follow through with wearing Effie's negligee and make a photo for yours truly.

 

Haymitch

 

~*~*

 

March 2017- Peeta, Frankfurt - Germany

pmellark@gmx.de to mailto:info@panem.org

 

Hi Haymitch, uhm, well, no. I really don’t want a photo with you in your negligee. Thanks for offering, but no. And I really appreciate that you would wax your hairy legs for me, but again, no thank you.

 

By the way, how is the construction of father’s buildings going on? I’m so happy that he had this idea for a community center. If it is successful, we could always order or build more of them.

 

Greetings, Peeta

 

~*~*

 

March 2017 - Haymitch, Ponce – Puerto Rico

Info@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx.de

 

Hi Peeta, it’s simply amazing. They brought the 6 buildings via ship, fixed them onto the concrete foundations last week and connected them to each other this week. Did you know that your father ordered these futuristic, monolithic domes? The construction workers said these buildings are hurricane resistant – awesome. And we have 6 of them. They look a lot like large igloo.

 

We now have to do the interior fitting. The sanitary facilities will be constructed by workmen from Ponce. The furniture was ordered and should arrive next month. Katniss and Annie are creating the landscape plan. But regarding the medical equipment, we want to wait for your advice. Maybe you want to order it from Frankfurt. You will be the one working with it. Till then, we improvise with our equipment.

 

Greetings Haymitch

 

P.S. Katniss’s email address is sagittaria@panem.org

 

~*~*

 

March 2017- Peeta, Frankfurt - Germany

 

pmellark@gmx.de to mailto:sagittaria@panem.org

 

Hi my lovely lady,

 

First of all, we should make sure that you use your own email address.

 

Haymitch sent me a message last evening and offered to Skype me instead. He was willing to wear a pink negligee to get my attention. I don't want to look at Haymitch in pink satin and ruffles. So what about you using your own email address and then we can make a new date for a chat, Skype or whatever you want? Or we could use another messenger service. One we could use with our smartphones too. If you have a suggestion, I’m all ears.

 

Did you enjoy your evening with Annie? Did Annie enjoy the Carnival? Did she tell Marvel and Finnick that they should change their behavior? Or has she decided that you are more worth her time and now I have to compete with her when it comes to your attention?

 

Really, really yours Peeta

P.S. I really want to see a negligee – on you. ;-)

 

~*~*

 

March 2017 - Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

 

sagittaria@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx-de

 

Dearest Peeta,

 

I am now sending my email from my notebook. When I use the damned computer in my office, Haymitch always uses the info address. OK, Haymitch in pink satin is more than dubious. I would wear green. And no ruffles. I am sending you a picture of the negligee I would prefer. Maybe I'll buy it...

 

The carnival was great. You don’t have to compete with Annie, even though she is a real beauty with her fair complexion and her red hair.

 

You have no competition at all. Nowhere. I am all yours, if you want me.

 

Really yours, Katniss

 

P.S. I sent you a photo from Haymitch too. He told me you wanted it so bad. No idea why. It's from his time with Effie. When he came to Capitol-City and they attended a costume party.

 

~*~*

 

Seven

April 2017- Peeta, Frankfurt – Germany and Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

 

It is pure luck that I am at home when I hear the familiar ringtone that tells me I have a text from Katniss. I look at the clock, open my smartphone and feel a little concerned. In Puerto Rico it is mid morning. Something must have happened that is so important that she stopped her work to text me.

 

~*~*

 

Katniss: Peeta, can you text me back? Haymitch is in the hospital and I really need you.

 

Peeta: I’m here. What happened? How is he?

 

Katniss: He felt sick and then he said that his left arm hurt and I called the ambulance immediately.

 

Peeta: That was the best thing that you could have done. Where are you now?

 

Katniss: I’m in the waiting room of the hospital. I’m alone. Everyone is in San Juan today.

 

Peeta: You’re not alone. I’m with you. You can text me as long as you want.

 

Katniss: Thank you. I’m really afraid, you know. They wouldn't tell me how he is. They said that they have to run a couple of tests.

 

Peeta: Did you tell them that he had a heart attack a couple of years ago?

 

Katniss: Yes, I told the paramedics who came and showed them the medicine he has to take regularly.

 

Peeta: Very good. Did he take it regularly?

 

Katniss: Since I live here, I take care that he takes it every morning after breakfast.

 

Peeta: Good. Maybe there is another reason for him to feel sick. We will see. I will stay on the phone as long as you need me. Promise.

 

Katniss: I’m thankful that I have you and that you care. Will you stay with me?

 

Peeta: Always

 

~*~*

 

Two hours later

 

Katniss: I am so relieved. They told me that it wasn't another heart attack, but that he overworked his arm yesterday at the construction site and he has a gastritis. It’s too much stress for him.

 

Peeta: Maybe if you delegate everything related to our project to Thresh. He is competent, has a masters degree in construction and would love to take over. Haymitch has to learn that he doesn't have to solve every problem by himself.

 

Katniss: You’re right. Thank you so much. I would go stir crazy if it wasn’t it for you.

 

Peeta: What do you do now? Will Haymitch stay overnight in the hospital?

 

Katniss: Yes, they kept him here for treatment because of his gastritis. I’m going home now.

 

Peeta: Text me when you get home later. Till then, Love and hugs.

 

Your Peeta

 

~*~*

 

One hour later

 

Katniss: Peeta, I’m at home now.

 

Peeta: Are you OK?

 

Katniss: Not really. I don't know if I can sleep. And I don't know if I want to fall asleep.

 

Peeta: Maybe I can stay with you. I can call you and stay with you till you fall asleep.

 

Katniss: Maybe. But don't you have to go to work? How late is it in Germany, anyway?

 

Peeta: Katniss I work in an emergency room. I’m used to sleeping at all hours. And I don't need to go to work in the next 9 hours. So what do you say, Do you want to Skype till you’re tired enough to fall asleep?

 

Katniss: OK. Give me a moment to change. I’ll call you.

 

~*~*

 

10 minutes later

 

Peeta: (holding his smartphone in his hand while he slowly strolls through his small apartment) So, this is my living room. Do you want the extended tour, by the way?

 

Katniss: Yes, of course. Show me your apartment.

 

Peeta: Well, like I said. This is my living room, which is also my study, my workout room and the room where I paint.

 

Katniss: Obviously. It’s a little crammed, isn't it.

 

Peeta: Hmm, It’s not overly large and I do have a lot of stuff. You’re right, it is a little cramped. I brought a lot of my dad's belongings with me. But I think the room has a special ambiance.

 

Katniss: Yes, especially the paintings on the walls. Did you paint them all?

 

Peeta: Every single one is an original PM.

 

Katniss: Wow, you’re an artist too.

 

Peeta: Maybe. Want to see the kitchen?

 

Katniss: Is this the place where those famous cheese buns and cookies are created?

 

Peeta: Yep. It’s also the room where I make a mouthwatering cup of hot chocolate.

 

Katniss: Oh, I love hot chocolate. I could make \a cup too. (moves into the kitchen).

 

Peeta: Good idea. Do you use water or milk?

 

Katniss: I use milk. And I have some rich dark chocolate bars I use.

 

Peeta: Mmm, me too. Do you boil the milk?

 

Katniss: Well, yes. How do you make it?

 

Peeta: First boil the milk. Then I stir the chocolate chunks into the milk and boil it again.

 

Katniss: Do you add some cream?

 

Peeta: Not anymore. I have to watch my weight. But it tastes better with some cream. Smother.

 

Katniss: I haven't eaten the whole day. I'll add some cream. I deserve a little bit of pampering.

 

Peeta: You do. So my hot chocolate is ready. What about yours?

 

Katniss: Ready. How about you show me more of your apartment? (goes into her own bedroom while drinking her hot chocolate)

 

Peeta: OK. (opens the door to his bedroom while he sips his own hot chocolate) This is obviously my bedroom.

 

Katniss: Oh, it is rather small too, isn't it? (puts her cup on her bedside table and makes a little pirouette with her smartphone in her hand) This is my bedroom.

 

Peeta: And yours is rather large. Especially the bed. Is that a king size?

 

Katniss: Yes, don't say anything against my bed. I love to sleep comfortably.

 

Peeta: With lots of pillows.

 

Katniss: With lots of pillows and a stuffed cat. Peeta meet Buttercup. (holding up a fat orange stuffed cat).

 

Peeta: Buttercup, the pleasure is all mine. Maybe I should introduce my stuffed animal, too?

 

Katniss: That would be polite. We are going to share our bedrooms tonight. Where is it?

 

Peeta: (goes to his bed and holds a tiny little white polar bear into the air ). Katniss and Buttercup, this is Mr. Bear.

 

Katniss: Oh, he’s so cute. Is that a little blue scarf around his neck?

 

Peeta: Yes, Mr. Bear has a tendency to get laryngitis.

 

Katniss: And Buttercup has a tendency to sleep all day. So where do I sleep?

 

Peeta: How about I put the smartphone on the right side of my pillow? Is that ok if You sleep on my left side?

 

Katniss: That’s perfect. So when I put my smartphone on my right side it is as if you are lying right beside me.

 

Peeta: Perfect. And when I put Mr. Bear in this angle of the smartphone, you can see him too. (He proceeds to put the smartphone and the bear on a free space beside his pillow after he has put his glasses onto the bedside table.)

 

Katniss: Peeta?

 

Peeta: Yes?

 

Katniss: We should do this for real.

 

Peeta: hmmm?

 

Katniss: Going to sleep next to each other. I’m thinking that right now I could sleep. That’s because of you.

 

Peeta: What did I do?

 

Katniss: You made me feel safe. Good night.

 

Peeta: Good night.

 

~*~*

 

Eight

April 2017- Peeta, Frankfurt – Germany

 

I haven't felt this nervous for a long time. Katniss has hinted that she would listen if I wanted to share a little more about my personal history – in regard of my mother. Today I will write why I have such a difficult relationship with my mother. Katniss has every right to know about it. We both became very close during the last month. Closer than anyone I have met before. So I start to write.

 

~*~*

 

pmellark@gmx-de to mailto:sagittaria@panem.org

 

Hi Katniss,

 

You asked lately why I have such a different relationship with my mother. You remember yours so fondly, the way she loved you and cared for you. Like a mother should be.

 

Well my mother is nothing like a mother should be. I would love for you to understand. I think you have every right to know my past. But first of all, I want you to understand that I don't want anyone’s pity. Not even yours. It took me a lot of time to leave the role of victim behind. Me being the victim would be like letting her win. But I have taken care to make sure she is not in this position. Not anymore.

 

I am only the child of a humble country doctor and the once beautiful blond haired and blue eyed woman who had to stop her own brilliant carrier because of the unwanted pregnancy. Margarete Mellark, a woman who was born to be great.

 

So at least she told everyone.

 

A great actress. Someone who would have been admired internationally for her acting ability. But unfortunately, she got pregnant before she had the chance to play one single role in a real play.

 

All these images she had of herself were only in her mind.

 

But she was a successful fake . In a small town, south of Frankfurt, Margarete Mellark was the local Queen. Mrs. Mellark, best friend of the Mayor.

 

Sitting on the board of almost every charity imaginable.

 

President of the Dreußleringer Frauengruppe zur Erhaltung des Brauchtums.

 

President of the Dreußleringer Museumsfreunde.

 

President of Lioness Club Dreußleringen.

 

If you never heard of that town – no loss. It is a little fly trap south of Frankfurt.

 

No one else knows. But my mother is the one who decided which group in Dreußleringen had a chance to live in peace and who wouldn't. She was proud that she could separate almost everyone into one of those two groups. The people who were on her side and those who weren't. White and black. In her world, nothing existed in between. People who were important and those that were not. Must I add that my father and I were members of the later group? We were nothing to her but a nuisance.

 

It took me almost 5 years to realize that I had to leave this town , to leave my mother Who treated me like I was beneath her, like I was nothing. Who mistreated me. Leave the one who called herself mother but never behaved like one to begin with.

 

More than 25 years of not being enough for my mother. Being the one she debased to increase her own value. Who had nothing but harsh words for me. Angry fists.

She never questioned her own behavior.

 

Never apologized for her words or for her blows on my body.

 

Never thought twice about trying to make herself feel superior by degrading her child - but only for a short time.

 

Even when she spent a lot of time by telling me that I was not enough it didn't increase her worth. She didn't feel better in the long run. But she tried it again and again.

 

Every time she felt like it, she told me that I was not enough.

 

Not good enough in school, not good enough in sports, not handsome enough for her liking.

 

And when she thought that telling me was not enough, she showed me.

 

The wife of a doctor knows where to beat a child without leaving marks on the skin, I can tell you.

 

And she knew how to manipulate me so that I didn't tell my tenderhearted but obnoxious father.

 

When I was eleven years old, I was pushed down the marble staircase of our luxury house.

 

Down the second floor to the first floor. Broke my left leg in several places on the way down and passed out when my head hit the ground floor. I had been on top of the stairs and didn't want to go to some shindig she was attending. I wanted to spend the time with my father. So she pushed me.

 

When the ambulance came, she told them of my clumsiness.

 

That I always forgot to double knot my shoes.

 

Told them of my eating disorder. I was small, short for my age and could barely swallow a bite of the food she cooked. Every time I tried she told me about big bones in the Mellark family. About us being pigs who stuff themselves with everything. About dying of cardiovascular diseases or diabetes. When I was eleven I was already anorexic

My father had no evidence that she pushed me. And even when he had some suspicions, he couldn't prove it was her fault. But my father put his foot down and brought me to a boarding school, the one where I spent my teenage years until I started my education at Frankfurt University to become a doctor. They treated me well, gave me food, gave me respect, gave me a home.

 

The only times I visited Dreußleringen was when I had my monthly meeting with my father. I spent my time in his study. Slept there, ate there and only left the room to go to the bathroom nearby.

 

When I was seventeen years, old my father brought me to Dr. Aurelius. He said that sometimes we need someone else to listen closely and ask the right questions. Dr. Aurelius did.

 

It took me almost 5 years to realize, that everything she had ever said, every single thing she had ever did, had always been about her. It was always about her.

 

Five years of therapy with Dr. Aurelius to realize it had nothing to do with me.

 

Five years to make me realize that I could really leave her for good. Anytime. Without needing a permission. Without an apology to her. Without thinking that I am an unfaithful son.

 

Leave the place where I was born, had gone to school to become a doctor.

 

After my father died, my mother and I met again – in the office of the notary. There she had to learn that my father signed the practice over to me when I was eighteen.

 

She had no idea.

 

I had no idea.

 

All she got after him passing away was the house she was living in. The house I would never again visit in my life.

 

After that, she tried to make me marry the daughter of one of her friends. A poor girl who was under her mother’s thumb like I had been under my mother’s for too long.

 

But I’d grown up. I said no to her plans of me marrying the Mayor’s daughter and spending the rest of my life in the practice in Dreußleringen.

 

All these years there had only been one person in my family who really cared who I was. And this person was dead.

 

My beloved father Gustav, who had so many things in common with me. The love of life, medicine and nature. And, sorrowfully, for too long, the wish to please this nemesis he was forced to live with.

 

My father died but never had the chance to live like he wanted to – in peace in the Caribbean where he had so many good friends, his closest friend being Haymitch. My father wanted to visit him, stay at places he admired so much. Like your Puerto Rico.

 

Hopefully soon, my Puerto Rico too. He had so many books about the Caribbean. Had loved to listen to Jibaro music when he was all alone in his study. The only place just for him. And me, too. I would listen to the music too when I visited monthly.

 

There my father had sat so many evenings, drinking Mate, using a bombilla and an original calabash, the one that one of his colleagues from Argentina sent him. Had it been Beetee? – I don't remember any more. Or even drinking some rum from the Destilería Cruz Haymitch send him twice a year.

 

He had had plans for his retirement. Plans without his wife – but with me.

 

Plans of traveling. Working with Haymitch.

 

But it never came to that. He died alone of a coronary this cold November evening last year while his wife was dining with the head curator of the museum in Frankfurt. She had made it clear that she was important like that. She had made it clear he was not good enough to join them. He had spend his life with not being enough, too.

 

I sold the practice, by the way, to the more than happy doctor who had worked there in the last 5 month. Sold it for a nice sum, in fact.

 

When I am finished with all I have to do in Frankfurt, I will sell all my personal stuff, too. Put the money in an account. I could buy a one-way-ticket to Puerto Rico to start my new life. Start it in a country where I would be welcomed. What do you think? Is there a spot I would fit in? You know that all I ever wanted was to be a part of a loving family. Do you think that I will have a chance to become a part of one? To become a part of yours?

 

You once asked me what I would dream about when I didn’t have my usual nightmares?

 

I would love to dream of children playing in a meadow and be happily watch by their parents. And I would love to know that I am the father and that we all are safe.

 

From Peeta, with love

 

~*~*

 

May 2017 - Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

 

sagittaria@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx-de

 

Dearest Peeta – my love,

 

How can I say thank you for your trust. I know that it hasn't been easy to write me the last email. Please know that I felt so much when I read it.

 

I felt happy that you trust me.

 

I felt angry that your had to suffer so much.

 

I felt love for your father to find a way to bring you to safety.

 

And I felt hate for your mother for being such a monster.

 

But the final emotion was joy.

 

Joy that I've got the chance to get to know you.

 

That I found you to fall in love with you.

 

It brings me so much joy that I can say I love you. And I do. Love you like an idiot .

 

Let us be idiots together. Let us dream together.

 

I would love to dream this dream of yours too. To live it. When I close my eyes I can see them. A little boy with blond curls and blue eyes. You are playing catch in the meadow and he throws his little chubby arms around your neck.

 

And me, I’m sitting with a little girl in my arms. In my dreams, she can't be older than half a year. She is half asleep because I nursed her and she is sated and warm. Her soft tuft of hair is dark and I’m sure when she would open her eyes they would be the same blue ones I see in your eyes every day.

 

So, do I see you in my family. Yes, I do.

 

I would love to welcome you in my family. You already have a lasting place in my heart.

Do you want to meet them all. All the people I work and live with?

 

I know they would love to meet you. Why wait for the moment you have finished your resident in Frankfurt? Why not meet now?

 

Next week I want you to meet them all. On May 8thI celebrate my birthday. We could celebrate together, via Skype. 

 

Everyone has asked about you at least once a week. Rue can't wait to see you. She thinks you are like the prince from the Beauty and the Beast (after he has become the Prince, of course!). Thresh wants to talk to you about engineering.

 

What do you think of May 8th? Do we have a date? 

 

From Katniss, with love

 

~*~*

 

Nine

May 9th2017 – Peeta, Frankfurt - Germany 

 

I will never forget this evening. Katniss and I celebrated her birthday with all her friends. And it has been like I lived there. She put the laptop on the table so that I could see everything that was happening in the room. Katniss had chosen to use the common room in the community center. It was decorated with colorful garlands, balloons and lots of flowers. In front of the table, she had placed not one but two armchairs so that everyone had the possibility to talk with me, or with us. Katniss hardly left the place. So everyone who came to congratulate her used the chance to say hello to me, too. And they did. I had a wonderful talk with Rue, who wouldn't leave Katniss lap. With Thresh who spoke to me like we had been friends for years. I met Finnick and Annie and could see with my own eyes how much they loved each other. I shared recipes with Sae and found in her someone with a soul like Hazelle's. Haymitch came around every once in awhile with a glass of rum in his hand and when everyone Katniss included left us alone for a couple of minutes, told me that he was so happy that Katniss and I have found each other. That Katniss parents would welcome me with open arms if they had met me. And that he, Haymitch will be proud to do it, too.

I had such a wonderful evening.

 

~*~*

 

May 9th2017 – Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico 

 

This was the best birthday party ever. It’s unbelievably, but when I came up with the idea of Peeta and all my friends celebrating together, I didn't know that they all had been waiting for such an opportunity. First, I told Rue because she always asked about Peeta and she immediately told Annie, Sae, Thresh, Finnick and so on. Before I knew it, we had all made plans for the celebration. And when Peeta came online, dressed in a light blue shirt and a necktie, everyone awaited him. Everyone wanted to speak with him, to ask about his opinion not only about work-related stuff. To talk about his hobbies, what he likes or dislikes. They all wanted to get to know him. I have never before been so proud about my friends. They all were amazing. Later I heard what Haymitch said to him. About my parents and that they would have welcomed him with open arms. This is so true. They would see, that Peeta is amazing. Peeta is nothing like Cato. Now I know that I never loved Cato. I do know that I love Peeta. I don't know if I really deserve someone like him but that doesn't matter. Because I love him. I have this amazing feeling that I want to put him somewhere where he is safe and loved and will never again feel hurt or alone.

 

I can't wait for Peeta to finally arrive this fall. For him to be with me for real. I simply can't wait.

 

~*~*

 

Ten

June 2017 - Katniss, Ponce – Puerto Rico

 

sagittaria@panem.org to mailto:pmellark@gmx-de

 

My love,

 

You asked once about Cato when we spoke about my birthday. You asked me if he took me to wonderful restaurants to celebrate. It made pensive. Made me think that you thought that Cato had been a good boyfriend and that I could compare the two of you. I can’t. I would never do that to you. But I am thinking that you have every right to know about him, too. After all, you put your confidence in me when I asked about your mother.

 

I met Cato when I started working in Capitol-City. He was eloquent where I was not. I'm not good at saying something. He was sophisticated, he made me believe that he was the model of an adult and I was a mere teenager. I felt lucky that he saw something in me and when he told me that he thought that we made a pretty couple, I didn't questioned it. Didn't questioned him.

 

Cato treated me like an educated model when he dragged me from one event to the next. From one political dinner to the opening of a famous clothing store. Cato couldn't even remember what my favorite color was or what food I liked. He bought me a golden dress once and insisted that it would look great with my coloring. I hated it. I love green. I love a lot of colors, but green is my favorite one. The golden one made me feel like the owner of a brothel.

 

He ordered costly dinners with lots of shellfish and lobster in a butter sauce. I love the stews my mother or Effie used to cook. I love pizza, pasta and bread. I don't have to watch my weight. I love carbs.

 

The more I tried to find myself by changing my life to a more urban style, the more Cato tried to corner me.

 

Of course, I know now that the control he tried to gain was a sign that he knew he was losing me.

 

In the end, he did. I left. I put only the most important belongings in a box, left my keys on top of the kitchen table in an luxury apartment we had bought after our first year together, when I had been willing to ignore theprice I had to pay for not being poor anymore. The price of losing myself.

 

Things like Cato calling and texting nonstop and coming to my office every hour of every day. I had to quit my job on much shorter notice than I had planned to. Quitting my government job was something I had wanted to do for some time.

 

I called Haymitch to ask for a job or for non-profit work in Puerto Rico.

 

When I knew for sure the date of my departure, I cooked a large meal for Prim and Gale and told them that I no longer needed their guestroom because I would be flying to Puerto Rico. I thought it would be difficult. But learned that they both had an assumption about me leaving for some time. They made it easier for me. They would visit in a couple of months.

 

I left Cato to find myself. And I did.

 

Thank you for asking me to share my memories. I noticed while I wrote that it was good to put my memories on a paper – or in this case, into a text – file.

It made me cherish you more and more. You make me feel loved. You love me for being me. And I love you for being you. You would never turn me into something I'm not. And I would never do that to you. This is something I can promise you.

 

Forever yours, Katniss (your sagittaria)

 

~*~*

 

June 2017 – Peeta, Frankfurt - Germany

pmellark@gmx-de to mailto:sagittaria@panem.org

 

Hi my lovely sagittaria,

 

Thank you so much for your trust. I had to take my time when I read about your previous email about Cato. He was an asshole, the way he treated you like a piece in his game. I am so happy that you found your way out, that you found yourself. And you are a wonderful treasure. OK, I know you blushing bright red right now, so I’ll stop.

But I have to say thank you. For trusting me that I wouldn't change you. And for your love. If someone had told me last year that I would find my love I don't know if I had believed in it. But now? I can't wait for our time together. For our life together. For us to work together and to build a family. I will be there soon. Than I am all yours and I won't leave you again.

 

Forever yours, Peeta

 

~*~*

 

Eleven

July 2017 – Katniss, Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport, Puerto Rico

 

I’m here in the airport now, waiting excitedly for Peeta. I feel like I have been waited for this moment my whole life. I try to smooth down the red and white blouse and the red pants I’m wearing. It took me one afternoon of online shopping to find exactly this costume.

 

I hold up a large sign in the air so that he can find me more easily. After all, I’m only 5”4’ tall. I want to fulfill my part of a bet we made after watching the same DVD.

 

Now I see him approach. Medium height, broad shoulders, blue eyes framed by black-rimmed, rounded spectacles. Blond floppy curls under a light brown fedora. I notice other women looking at him. But he’s all mine. My Peeta. Let them look. How could they not? Not when he looks like that and smiles like that and walks with a confidence I know he didn't have last year. A confidence he has gained during the last months, ever since we fell in love.

 

Peeta is wearing khaki trousers, held up with old fashioned suspenders and a safari-style shirt in the same washed out color. On his feet, Alden boots, double knotted, of course. I have to grin. In his breast pocket is a small white bear with a light blue scarf. This is so uniquely Peeta to combine the original looking costume with a stuffed animal his father gave him when he was a little boy. The clothes fit him well. I bet some women would love to make his acquaintance. And one look at the bear will have them wanting to bear his children.

 

I feel myself walking faster and faster, not wanting to wait any longer

 

Peeta has already recognized me in my costume. Even when I am not wearing my telltale braid but a hairstyle like Marion in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark.

 

He drops the green duffel bag he is carrying.

 

I drop the sign and run the remaining distance into his open arms. And for the first time, I get the chance to kiss him like I’ve wanted to do all these month. Feel his soft lips on mine. Let my fingers tousle his curls. Let myself inhale deeply to smell him for the first time. He smells like cookies - sugar and cinnamon. I could drown in his scent. I know that I will never again want to let him go.

 

The others wait near the doors that lead to the through-way. Rue, Annie, Haymitch, Finnick, Thresh, Sae – they all accept that this first moment was ours alone. They only want to welcome him to his new home with style. Rue with flowers, Annie and Sae hold a bottle of champagne. Haymitch and Thresh carry the glasses. And Finnick holds the colorful, handmade sign. They had even roll out a red carpet.

 

I dared Peeta to come dressed like Indiana Jones. He dared me to come dressed like Marion Ravenwood.

 

When we both approach hand in hand with large happy smiles on our faces Finnick waves my discarded sign.

 

'Welcome Indiana Jones!'

 

The end (is only the beginning)

 

Notes

A Friedwald is a burial place. Someone can choose a tree where his ashes are buried.

There is no town called Dreußleringen but towns like that, clubs like the mentioned do exist.

*~*

Dishes in this story.

Cafè-con-leche: Traditional cafe latte puerto rican style made with hot milk and sugar. 

tortitas de calabaza: Delicious Puerto Rico traditional pumpkin patties.

Elisen-Oblaten-Lebkuchen: This cookies are a must eat in Germany during Christmas time. The are baked on wafers we call Oblaten. The distinguishing characteristic of the Elisenlebkuchen is that they use no flour and have a very high ratio of nuts, specifically a combination of almonds and hazelnuts. But the best are the spices. We use ground cinnamon, cloves, allspice, coriander, green cardamom, ginger, star anise, mace, nutmeg. 

Colcanon:This is a traditional hot pot with creamy mashed potatoes, mashed cabbage and mashed green onions. 

Asopao: The Puerto Rican dish asopao de pollo, a cross between soup and paella, is an easy, hearty one-dish meal featuring juicy chicken thighs, diced lean ham, rice, and assorted seasonings. 

 


End file.
